Old Fires
by IReallyLoveTea
Summary: Post Mockingjay. In which Katniss and Peeta are re-entered into the Hunger Games, along with another few characters you might recognise. Will they survive this time? Warning: BIG Mockingjay spoilers


I watch them playing in the meadow, my children. They're beautiful and exactly how I would have imagined them, had I imagined them at all. I couldn't afford to even think about them, let alone design them in my mind. Back then, any thought of children would have been stifled as quickly as possible. How could I have created them just for them to live in constant fear? How would that have been fair?

Now I can't imagine my life without them. My girl is small like me, with long dark hair and pretty blue eyes. Peeta is the one who decided on her name. Rose. After Primrose. When he told me, I embarrassingly cried the whole night, but I know now that she couldn't have been called anything else. I see so much of Prim in her; in her smile, her laugh, the way she crawls into bed with me when she's scared and alone. She is beautiful and intelligent, everything I both admire and envy.

My boy, Tomas, is a little younger but not by much. He is entirely devoted to his sister, something I hope he will never lose. He too is beautiful, with golden locks that resemble Peeta's so much. He face is as honest as Peeta's and his words as kind. Yet he has my passion and fire, a balance so equal that these opposing qualities have yet to consume each other.

I watch them for hours, unable to stop. I think part of me is afraid to turn away in case they disappear. I've had various nightmares where they turn into mist and when I make a grab for them, the cloud slips through my fingers. I often wake to hot tears flooding the pillow. I sit up and the tears slip through my fingers just like the mist. Peeta is always there to comfort me and I'm glad for it. Otherwise I fear I may drown. Complete dependence on someone is still foreign to me and sometimes I struggle letting him in, but Peeta always finds a way to break down my walls, much like my children.

"Mummy," calls Rose, padding over to me. She wraps her arms around my middle and I stroke her hair. "Come and play with us!"

"What do you want to play?" I ask, still smoothing her hair.

"Tig and you're it!" With that, she runs off giggling. I run after her, slowing my pace so she at least has a chance. If I run at my normal pace, I know I will overtake her in a second.

Not unlike like Peeta, Tomas is the slowest and I catch up to him straight away. He's screaming and laughing as I haul him up and spin him around. "You're on my team now," I tell him as I lower him to the ground, "Let's get your sister." The fickle creature he is, he grins and nods along with my plan.

"Oh, I don't think so," says a voice behind me. I know it's Peeta before I even turn around. He gives me a mischievous smile. "Rose," he calls, "Come here, we're on a team."

Rose runs up to him with a happy, "Daddy!" Suddenly he's kneeling down to her level and whispering in her ear. She giggles all the while. Eventually they pull apart.

I raise my eyebrows at Peeta, who just folds his arms casually. Then I lean down to discuss my own plan with Tomas, but before I even reach his ear, Peeta yells "NOW." He rushes towards me and folds his arms around my waist as he pulls me to the ground. I hit the grass with a thud and for a moment, I feel the wind knock out of me. Before I find my bearings, he's pinning me to the ground, holding my arms above my head. I glance over at my teammate, to find he's in the same predicament.

"Well played," I say.

"I learned from the best."

"Give me five minutes and we'll have switched."

"I don't doubt it." He's humouring me, I realise. I struggle against his iron-like grip but find out I'm stuck. I may have been faster than Peeta but the years of throwing sacks of flower over his shoulders have made him strong, even stronger than when he was in the games. I realise there isn't any way I'm getting out of this.

"You can let me go now."

"No, I don't think so." There's a twinkle in my eye as he presses a kiss to my jaw.

"The kids.." I protest.

"Have gone inside," He murmurs between kisses, "Didn't you notice?"

I turn my head to the side to find out he's right. Peeta uses this to his advantage.

"Why don't we let them stay over at your mother's tonight?" He whispers.

It does sound like a tempting offer and one I'm far too willing to take up. He pulls back to look into my face, releasing my hands. I sit up, inches away from his face. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"I'll go and ask. I said I'd take her some bread, anyway."

"You probably don't need to ask her. She loves those children as if they were her own." He brushes my hair back as it falls into my face. I haven't plaited my hair since I was the Mockingjay. It's out of principle. I am no longer the Mockingjay and I don't wish to be reminded of it.

"I know. I know she does."

Peeta gives me one of his warm smiles and leans in to kiss me, but before his lips touch mine, I hear the children's footsteps on the path. They run into the meadow.

"Mommy, daddy," calls Rose, "It's on now!"

 _Of course_ , I think. The election results. I have completely forgotten about them with the excitement of the afternoon. I gently push Peeta off me and pull myself to my feet. Rose takes my hand and pulls me towards the house. As soon as we're inside, she turns the volume up and sits in front of the projection. Usually Rose doesn't show an interest in television and videos we have streamed, but when the Capitol music sounds, she's in complete focus. For some reason, she knows it's important.

I sit down and Peeta sits next to me. He's watching the screen with furrowed eyebrows. Even though the whole concept of the Capitol has completely altered since the games, we're both still sceptical of it. It's changed for the better, that's true, but I still feel like there are kept secrets no-one but the Captiol knows.

After the assassination of Coin, everyone else realised that her version of another Hunger Games was inhumane, something I picked up on long ago. The whole Government system was stripped down and pulled apart inch by inch. Then it was decided that there would be a fairer Government, something of a Utopia Government. Hundreds of meetings took place and I was invited to all of them. I didn't go and neither did Peeta. Haymitch, however, did. After every meeting he would visit us on his way home and let us in on what was happening. It was him who told me that Gale had the idea of an election. Candidates would run and compete in a battle which began months before the actual election. The public would then vote – including all the districts – and a victor would be chosen. The idea became a reality and the Government has never looked back.

This year there were five candidates; Josif Mikelson, Dora Green, Millene Dejenerus, Tom Aplin and Oliviah Goldheart. Josif, Tom and Millene have all been knocked out and only Dora and Oliviah remain, but not for long.

"I don't trust Oliviah," I say as her face flashes up on screen.

"What? Why not?" exclaims Peeta, "She's the best one!"

"She's too good to be true."

"You always think that."  
"Am I ever wrong?"

Peeta falls silent. No, I'm never wrong. Every little bit of her screams untrustworthy. She seems _too_ perfect, almost inhuman. She has pretty, shoulder length hair which curls into bouncy waves, and a smile so happy, it makes me sick to the stomach. She isn't hideous like the rest of the Capitol people, but she in no ways looks as if she could run Panem. Her laugh makes my skin crawl. I can't explain it and it's infuriating because everyone else falls at her feet. Even Peeta has his mouth open slightly as he watches her. I jab him in the ribs.

She's smiling again – does she ever stop? – as she's introduced to the audience, as she executes her speech and even as her opponent is making their speech. It's as if she knows she's won.

And she has won, apparently. She's called up into the stage, her smile so bright it could blind puppies. Everyone in the audience is clapping, cheering and whooping. Even Peeta claps for her, until I give him another sharp nudge in his side.

 _She is not to be trusted_ , a voice in my head says, as clear as day. I narrow my eyes at her smile and I'm still narrowing my eyes as the projection disappears.

The goose bumps don't leave my skin, not even as I go to sleep that night.

 **Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. Once again, I must stress that big, BIG spoilers are coming up so if you haven't read Mockingjay and don't want to know what happens, don't read this fanfiction! I just don't want to spoil it for anyone. Once again, thanks for reading.**


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